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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26346811">Nuka-World Blues</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/gubby/pseuds/gubby'>gubby</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Fallout (Video Games), Fallout 4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Denial, Dirty Talk, Dirty Thoughts, Emotions, Fluff, Jealousy, Masturbation, Penis In Vagina Sex, Pining, Possessiveness, Smut, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, Violence, Yearning, a little bit, and not knowing how to handle having real feelings, dirty fantasies, gage being emotionally stunted, getting caught masturbating, hand holding</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-09-07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-08</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 06:27:35</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>6,700</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26346811</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/gubby/pseuds/gubby</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Peaks into the relationship developing between someone severely emotionally stunted and bad at interpersonal communication, Gage, and a feral but well meaning idiot, the Sole Survivor.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Porter Gage/Female Sole Survivor, Porter Gage/Sole Survivor</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>57</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. And Then</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Sole didn’t like being put on a pedestal, or made into some sort of hero. In fact, it infuriated her. It’s why she refused the position of general for the Minutemen, ducked out of Railroad celebrations early, and didn’t often stick around to see the fruits of their labor. Even when she was married to Nate— and <em> especially </em> when she was pregnant— she felt this invisible barrier between them. Sole knew that she was flawed, like anyone else. </p><p>The apocalypse had fucked everyone, but it had fucked her in particular. Turned into a popsicle, husband killed, baby stolen and turned into an old man, and what was she before the war? A fucking lawyer. There was no skill more useless in the lawless, post-nuclear wasteland than that. So why fuck around trying to be nice anymore? It was something she asked herself quite often. Practicing law taught her that people would jump through whatever hoops necessary to prove that they weren’t animals, when they were. 200 years in the future, that hadn’t changed for many people. </p><p>When she went to Nuka-World, she wanted to go somewhere new, somewhere she wouldn’t be recognized. And apparently 200 years into the future hadn’t been far enough. A potential raider paradise wasn’t what she expected to find, but it didn’t disgust her as she expected. These people were so wholeheartedly unafraid of themselves— of their animalism, cruelty, manipulative tactics. It was almost <em> beautiful </em>. In a world where strength and skill are always challenged, Sole could actually take pride in being overboss. </p><p>She was, at first, hesitant to take yet another readily offered leadership position. Her introduction to the system of power was with a rigged fight, after all. But upon seeing the raider gang leaders leer and scrutinize her, ready to pounce on any sign of weakness? Well, she strangely felt more comfortable. </p><hr/><p>Gage felt like a dumbass, and that was really saying something. When you’re surrounded by raiders, most of whom can’t tell their own asshole from the next guy’s, it’s not hard to think of yourself as the smartest guy for miles. And usually, that’s how Gage thought of himself. </p><p>Until the overboss was involved. </p><p>They say don’t shit where you eat, or maybe more appropriately, don’t <em> fuck </em> where you eat. Then again, there probably wasn’t a square foot in Nuka-World where the raiders hadn’t done all three of those things, maybe even at the same time. Either way, it didn’t make Gage feel better about wanting to fuck her. </p><p>When she revealed that she was pre-war, he had no choice but to believe it, even without seeing the tacky vaultsuit she had stuffed in the bottom of a bag. She had the curves, the smile, the smarts, the fucking <em> meat </em> on her bones to prove it. They didn’t make ‘em like that no more. It seemed like every new thing he learned about her made her more unlike any woman he’d ever met before. And with that, he felt more temptation. </p><p>Until it wasn’t just temptation. He’d never admit it to anyone, least of all himself, but his desires had journeyed beyond just wanting to get his dick wet. Gage had told Sole things he’d never said aloud even to himself, much less another person, and she listened. <em> Goddamnit </em> , she listened. The one thing Colter never did (if he was being generous) and the one thing he’d always wanted. And the worst part? She trusted him too. Told him about her own rich history in the realm of pain, torment, and regret. She shed silent tears and he extended his sympathies. He <em> comforted </em> her. </p><p>Which is totally not a very raider thing to do. </p><p>Then came the possessiveness. Gage had never particularly liked Mason (the man looked ridiculous, and maybe Gage had his own <em> alpha </em> streak in him), but he had never wanted to butt heads with him as much as he did now. The predatory gaze that subtly raked up and down Sole’s body was not so subtle to Gage. He had to watch her back after all, <em> especially </em> if someone else had their eyes on it. Mags was irritating in her own way before, but her and William’s attempts at getting in the Overboss’s good graces via seduction were <em> infuriating </em> now. Hell, even the rare trade of sadistic smiles with Nisha got him riled up and pissed off at times. </p><p>Then? There was the <em> yearning </em>, and this was when Gage knew he was well and truly fucked. At first, his daydreams were of Sole looking up at him while she sucked his cock, how her ass would feel on his hands when he held her against the wall and fucked her until she screamed. Then, how she would look when she came, and how she would beg for him to touch her. Then, how her sleepy weight would feel across his chest, how her smaller, less calloused hands would feel entwined with his. When you’re nutting at the image of someone looking up at you with a lovelorn, adoring gaze, it isn’t about the sex anymore. </p><p>So there he was, sitting around like a trained dog at the Fizztop, methodically cleaning his guns and patching up his armor, all while Sole slept just a little ways away. Despite having been asleep for 200 years, she liked to take these afternoon naps. Another thing that, in the eyes of the rookie raiders in the park, made her too soft to be Overboss. She didn’t worry about it. Those who were important knew her strength. She welcomed challenges from the greenhorns, she <em> itched </em> to make examples of them at times. It was that mean streak that kept her popular with the people who were smart enough to stay out of her damn way. </p><p>When Colter was around, Gage fucked off pretty much every time he passed out. Wasn’t his problem if the boss got stabbed in the back while he was out cold, not really, not when Colter was as shitty a boss as he was. But the idea of someone sneaking in while Sole was at her most peaceful, most vulnerable? Well, realistically she would use that nasty, freakish blade she kept at her side at all times to pry their ribcage open, but the alternative still twisted up Gage’s guts with worry. So he stayed. If loyalty was a disease, Gage had it terminal. </p><p>The radio was on— low volume so as not to disturb sleeping beauty, but still on. But the old raider wasn’t really listening. He’d long since tuned out to focus on Sole’s quiet huffy breathing. Occasionally he’d look over his shoulder at her, and for much longer than he’d ever admit. Her tousled hair was splayed in a halo against the pillow, curling against her cheek. </p><p>Oh, to share that bed and feel her warm, soft body against him. To know her touch— carnally, tenderly, whatever way she would give it to him. Him, an old raider, scarred to fuck, missing an eye, teeth rotten, and just generally not nice guy. Her, a pre-war relic with a penchant for animalistic truthfulness and violence that made her a perfect fit for Overboss. Evidence of a time oft romanticized, and proof that it wasn’t all that great. To those in the Commonwealth, her good looks and good deeds made her the very embodiment of old world blues, in every sense of the phrase. To Gage, she wasn’t afraid to be fucked up and wrong, and that’s what made her so right. </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Touchy Subject</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Sole was an intimate person by nature. Despite all her ruthlessness and capacity for sustained cruelty, she could be damn near </span>
  <em>
    <span>cuddly</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Probably too cuddly for her own good, too. Just another of the many traits working against her and her reputation as Overboss. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The first time she touched Gage, it felt like ice water had been dumped all over him. And not in the poolside summer fun way, where he was in his swim trunks and totally ready. This was in the ‘he opened the door and the bucket precariously placed on the door fell over and soaked him, his favorite shirt, and all the shit in his pockets’ kind of way. One touch to his forearm and he was holding back a straight up </span>
  <em>
    <span>scowl</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Needless to say, Gage did not like to be touched. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>And she read that, awkwardly withdrawing, leaving the heat from her soft palm behind. The touches did not come for a while after. At the time, he was thankful for it, despite the little tug he felt deep inside his blackened heart whenever he saw her wrist flinch backwards as she caught herself. </span>
</p><p><span>Sometimes, Sole would leave. That’s just the way it was, everyone has their own shit to deal with, no one minded. She was never gone for too long, and compared to Colter’s </span><em><span>entire</span></em> <em><span>year</span></em><span> of doing fuck all, she packed enough action in Nuka-World to last the next decade. Sometimes, when she came back, there’d be some dog on her heels. Sometimes literally. </span></p><p>
  <span>The Irish brawler. The wide-eyed French medic. The mouthy reporter. The grouchy merc. A fucking super mutant. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>That last one got her some major reputation points. She even let him in on some of the Pack’s cage matches, where he literally tore apart the competition. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But no matter who she brought, she was draped all over them for the </span>
  <em>
    <span>whole</span>
  </em>
  <span> visit. She kept her legs over Piper’s lap while they chatted on the couch. Linked arms with Curie on every elevator ride. Slung her arm around MacCready’s shoulder, and surprisingly he didn’t seem to mind. Even Strong was guided everywhere by the hand. And goddamn if Gage wasn’t starting to feel a little left out. The last time he was touched in a positive way from outside of the context of a casual fuck with some jet-fueled raider chick was… Well, it was that touch from Sole. And before that, his parents. Which left a pretty big gap he hadn’t really bothered to process before. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Gage. Well known cyclops, tough ass, and manipulator, touch starved after a little touch on the forearm from the boss. Unbelievable. </span>
</p><hr/><p>
  <span>Another park down, Safari Adventure, and it had gone to the pack. As if Sole needed any more brownie points from Mason. But how could she not give it to them? Animals were their whole thing, after all. She went straight to the Amphitheater upon their return. The flag had sent the news ahead of time, even if no one admitted that they waited with baited breath to see it raised after she and Gage had been out for a while.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But she liked to inform the leaders personally. To be polite, to flex that she could do what none of their dumbasses could manage in a whole year in just a few days, or to demand respect and tribute, he did not know. The Pack celebrated her arrival. Gage was largely ignored, but he was fine with that. That was the price he paid for being the right hand man instead of the boss, and he didn’t like to be fussed over anyhow. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But Mason. That son-of-a-bitch Mason. He got up to see her. Approached her almost tenderly, his form towering over hers. Confidently, but with measured caution, he laid his hands to grasp her shoulders. He leaned in, and she followed. Their foreheads touched, and in theory that may not sound so bad, but right then? It looked like the most important thing in the world. Like they’d established a complete link— total understanding. He lowered a yao guai necklace over her head, one not unlike his own, and that was intentional; it showed her complete acceptance from the Alpha, and therefore, the rest of the Pack. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Y’done good by us, Overboss. Kept your promises, and the promises made before you. The Pack thanks you. Now, everyone? Go fuckin’ </span>
  <em>
    <span>wild</span>
  </em>
  <span>!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mason let her sit on his throne— which kinda dwarfed her, by the way— while he sat on the arm. They watched the revelry, sneaking snide remarks to one another which Gage couldn’t hear from where he stood (nearby, but not crowding). The Alpha kept his hand on her shoulder, shooting the older raider a challenging leer. Gage glowered back, against his better judgement. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>When Mason went off to micromanage or whatever the fuck, she called him over. Clearly she didn’t want to yell, but did want to be heard over the noise of the party. Something in him fluttered at the excitement in her voice, which she never bothered to contain. Something about the way she said his name just made it sound a bit better than he’d ever heard it from anyone else. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He took a knee. So she wouldn’t have to yell, given that he was already much taller than her and her stature had been further reduced in a seated position. He had found himself doing thoughtful shit like that for her, things he’d rather have dropped dead than do for Colter. Something about her made pretty much everyone around want to try a little harder, and he was no exception.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What’s up, boss?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thanks for sticking around. Don’t know what I’d do if I was alone out here. You’re not too bored, are you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And there she was, being all thoughtful n’ shit when it came to him. He chewed on those words a little more. Surrounded by the Pack, in spitting distance of Mason, she’d be alone, but with Gage right there, she wasn’t? Fuck if that didn’t make him feel an alarming amount of </span>
  <em>
    <span>special</span>
  </em>
  <span>. The kind of special that gives a man ideas. Makes a man wanna </span>
  <em>
    <span>act up</span>
  </em>
  <span>. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nah boss, don’t worry about me. I’ve sat through worse. Next time you’re at a disciple party I might have to abandon you, though.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She giggled. Clear as a bell. She didn’t laugh a lot in public, and he could see why. She had a kiddie kinda laugh when she was really tickled by something. It made him smile every time. Then, her arm moved and her wrist twitched backwards in that telltale way. She was thinkin’ about touching him. And again, maybe against his better judgment, he spoke up. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“S’okay, boss. You can touch me if you wanna.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>God, had he dreamed of saying that, but never in his imagination did it sound so </span>
  <em>
    <span>stupid</span>
  </em>
  <span>. The raider cringed inwardly at his own voice. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Goddamnit,</span>
  </em>
  <span> he was getting soft. She was making him get that way. And he couldn’t bring himself to dislike it. </span>
</p><p>"<em><span>Really</span></em><span>? I mean. I do, but I don’t wanna make you uncomfortable, Gage. Even if I’m your </span><em><span>boss</span></em><span>, there can be boundaries.”</span></p><p>
  <span>Sole interpreted the strain in his voice for discomfort with the idea, and for that she worried about him. Just like always; she was always thinking of him and his comfort. There was that little uninhibited twinge of excitement when she said ‘really?’ that was about to fucking end him. On top of that, she said his name again in that sweet, comforting way. He didn’t stand a chance. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I mean it, Sole. I mean it,” he all but sighed, like a weight had been lifted from his shoulders. He only used her name like that to make points and be personal, which was seldom. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She put her hand on the forearm he had resting on the armrest of the chair. Her hand slid its way, slowly, with her hypersensitive to any discomfort. Gage felt like he had to hold his fucking breath, or everything would disappear. It would all end. Her fingertips reached his wrist. He took a chance. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He uncurled his fingers, and moved to face his palm upwards. Probably the most open body language he’d displayed in years. Her nails tickled him just slightly as her hand continued up his palm, leaving electricity in their wake. Her fingers slid perfectly into the gaps between his. Or at least, that’s how it felt. He mirrored her actions. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>They held hands. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>And honestly? It was more intense and emotional and intimate than anything he’d had before. </span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Fantasiland</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Sole was a reader. Her eyes roamed all over everyone she spoke to, not quite clinically, but definitely observant. She took one look at someone and knew exactly what they wanted to hear from her. All stares, all the time, nothing safe from her fiber optic gaze.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>At first, it made Gage freaked out and uncomfortable. What was she looking for? Was he uglier than he thought? As with all of her quirks, he got used to it pretty fast, until it eventually just endeared her to him more. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But Gage was quickly realizing something. She could dish it, but she couldn’t take it. Did her best to avoid stares from others. It took a long time for her companion to figure it out, because her backwards way of avoiding having her body and face stared at was to keep eye contact. But once he figured it out? Shit, it was somehow even </span>
  <em>
    <span>harder</span>
  </em>
  <span> not to stare while he followed her around. To make it worse, she shivered when she felt eyes on her sometimes.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Unfortunately for Sole, she naturally attracted attention, as much as she tried to avoid it. It was a big reason why she ditched the vault suit so early on. She still looked fresher, prettier, and fuller than everyone around by leaps and bounds. Those who weren’t gawking at her pre-war beauty looked at her for all manner of reasons: her wardrobe (some stolen from animatronics, some hand made), her weapons (like that freaky sword she found at the bottom of a well), the company she was keeping (Strong, Hancock, Gage, etc), the weird shit she can’t seem to stop herself from saying. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Gage’s stares were a unique combination of all of those things, plus his own… feelings. As with most of his feelings towards her, they began as purely sexual. Plumpness of her ass, swell of her breasts, the way her thighs pushed together on tram rides. Then some more subtle attractive features. The sheen of her hair, bright smile, smooth skin. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Then it got a little too specific. Gushy kinda shit he’d rather die than say out loud. The kinda thing that only existed in pre-war harlequin novels. The little whisps of baby hair at the base of her neck, the way she crinkled her nose, the birthmark at her hip that was only visible when one of her sleep shirts rode up (or, god willing, she changed in front of him). </span>
</p><p>
  <span>And now that Gage had let her start with those little touches? Things only got worse. Give Sole an inch and she’ll take a mile, not that Gage ever had it in his heart to stop her; the man did </span>
  <em>
    <span>not</span>
  </em>
  <span> know how to refuse her. The way she looked at him when she’d grab his hand or touch his shoulder? Card her fingers through his mohawk, short as it was? He’d do just about anything to see that look, much as he beat himself up for even </span>
  <em>
    <span>thinking</span>
  </em>
  <span> stupid sentimental shit like that. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Not to mention the hugs. Good, </span>
  <em>
    <span>merciful</span>
  </em>
  <span> lord, the hugs. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Every time they got back to the Fizztop for the day, she’d give him a hug the minute the last of his armor came off, no matter what dirt and grime was still all over them. In her eagerness, she always finished removing hers before him, practically bouncing while she waited for him to be done. Then, another embrace before they parted for the night to go to sleep. It was times like these where she really acted like some kid, and the old raider didn’t understand why he </span>
  <em>
    <span>tolerated</span>
  </em>
  <span> it, much less looked forward to it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Maybe it was because even though she acted like a kid sometimes, she sure as hell didn’t hug like one. For one, sometimes she just about knocked the wind out of him (she had to have strong arms to carry around all those desk fans ‘n shit, he supposed). For another, the way her chest squished against his fucked with his brains something special. Or rather, it drained the blood from his brains and sent it… somewhere else. Fuck, she was soft. Warm too. Sometimes, when she showered right before bed (with no luxuries like hot water to be found in Nuka-World), he could feel her pebbled nipples under the fabric of whatever shitty Nuka-Cola t-shirt she was wearing. Without pants, cause why the fuck should she make anything easy for him? </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He jerked off pretty much every night lately, like a teenager who just got his hands a pre-war nudie magazine for the first time. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tonight, his fantasy of choice was wondering if Sole was doing the exact same thing as him down the hall. It wasn’t his first time thinking of this scenario, not by a long shot, though he had noticed that the prevalence of Sole calling his name in these fantasies had gone way up as of late. Another recent development was how it ended. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>At first he could get off just to thinking of her arched back, hair in a halo around her, fingers reaching deep in her cunt while her breath got labored and her legs twitched. Then, it was him that she was crying for. Then, in the theater of his mind, he would interrupt her, maybe thinking she was calling his name because she needed help, maybe because he knew exactly what she was doing and how much she wanted him (depending on if he needed an ego boost). She’d take everything he had to give her, and she’d take it gladly, until he was satisfied (usually she’d be satisfied ten times over in the process). Within the past couple of weeks, the fantasy had started concluding with him pulling her close, having her rest on him as they dozed. He knew this was a slippery fuckin’ slope to be on, but he couldn’t stop himself. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tonight, fantasy-Sole whispered something as she fell asleep. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It would probably be another week or two before he’d be able to admit to himself what she said. </span>
</p><hr/><p>
  <span>Too real. That was too real. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Gage was brought out of his fantasies by the sound of a voice. Sole’s voice. He wasn’t sure if he had imagined it or not, it was like when you wake up because someone in a dream calls your name. It was so quiet, so barely there that it was easy to ignore. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Or it would have been, had it happened just once. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Gage had pretty good hearing despite everything. He had to. Needed to be able to sleep but stay aware enough to defend himself. Muffled as it was, he heard the occasional sharp, strangled moan. It could only have come from the boss, who slept down the hall on the patio. He quickly tugged on some jeans and got up, his head running through possible scenarios at a mile a minute as he paced quickly yet quietly down the corridor. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sole was nothing short of neurotic, and it showed as soon as she first laid eyes on the Fizztop Grille. The grimace she made upon seeing all the animatronics, random shit, and trash strewn about the place when she first arrived made Gage laugh whenever he thought of it. It had been cleaned up, rearranged, and thoroughly taken care of within 24 hours, probably less. At the time, it made Gage pretty fuckin’ nervous, afraid that he’d just recruited a complete ninny and that Nisha was going to skin his ass raw. But now, he was grateful for how obsessive she had been about cleaning. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Because she had made sure to oil every single rusted-to-fuck doorknob, hinge, and mechanism in the entire place. Meaning when Gage opened the door to the patio, it was quiet enough that she didn’t stir from </span>
  <em>
    <span>whatever</span>
  </em>
  <span> she was doing. Gage was about to find out whatever that was. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“—</span>
  <em>
    <span>hah! Fuck…”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>The raider peaked over at her, nearly craning his neck to see what was going on, and he was almost starting to sweat at the sounds she was letting out. He cautiously made his way forward, until he inched close enough to make out that she was under the covers. Curled in on her side, panting, really clearly trying to be quiet. And to her credit, she was. Gage couldn’t help but think she’d probably done this in the company of her other friends at a similar distance, but their hearing hadn’t been trained enough to pick it up. They hadn’t been waiting to hear it like he had. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The scene had been… different from how he had imagined. He had thought of her, spread out, on her back, almost unapologetically loud and out of breath. Presented. But here in reality, she was so tucked away and vulnerable. What came out were hitched breaths and quiet whimpers, all he could really see was her tangled hair on the pillow and the movement from beneath the sheets. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Got him hotter than any porno mag he’d ever had, and he could barely even see her. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh </span>
  <em>
    <span>god</span>
  </em>
  <span>— </span>
  <em>
    <span>Gage—“</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>And that was the final push he needed. </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Non-petrarchan</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Walking without shoes, Porter Gage could be silent without even really trying. scared the shit out of Sole and put a smile on his face plenty of times. He did exactly that until he got right to the edge of her bed, lowering his hand to it to steady himself as he slowly sat down. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sole’s head snapped to the side upon feeling the mattress dip with the added weight, reflexes still sharp despite all her desperation. The raider on her bed was greeted with her flushed cheeks and wild, dilated eyes. Sole was greeted with a shirtless Porter Gage. The split second that they looked at each other felt like an eternity, listening to each other's breathing, staring. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Boss. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Sole</span>
  </em>
  <span>. If this ain’t what you want, stop me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The words were rough and unromantic, but coming from Gage in that moment, they felt tender and beautiful. Sole felt his calloused hands cup her face gently before he leaned down and their lips met. Gage wasn’t one to do things slow and gentle, not really, but he wanted to give her time to push him away. Not to mention, Sole was completely unlike anyone he’d ever met before, in so many ways he couldn’t articulate. He wouldn’t treat her like some meaningless fling, as much as his pride as an unfeeling tough-as-fuck raider wanted him to. Before she knew it, his tongue was in her mouth while his hand began gliding down the length of her body, stopping to palm at her breast through the thin fabric of her sleep shirt. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He stopped to throw the blankets from her body, and her legs twitched at the sudden exposure to the cool air of the open patio. Gage moved their rest of himself onto the bed, parting from Sole’s lips, and grabbed at her hips to yank her body closer to his, setting her on his lap. The raider’s assault on her body was ceaseless and overwhelming, his mouth kissing down her neck while his hands slid up her shirt to cup and knead at her breasts. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She could feel the rough pads of his thumbs as he teased and pulled at her nipples, reveling in the feeling of the soft flesh finally beneath his touch, after months of being teased with it. His right hand trailed further down, uncharacteristically feather-light despite how pent-up and wild he was currently feeling, until he reached the elastic of her cotton panties, thumbing at the little silk bow that adorned them with amusement. They were already soaked through from her earlier ministrations, he could already see the cleft of her pussy through the wet fabric, and he wasn’t about to stop with just seeing.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Y’got any idea how long I’ve wanted to do something like this with you, boss?” He said it in a low sort of growl near her ear, and he could feel a shiver run through her. “A long fuckin’ time. Nice to know you had the same idea.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Had she not been acting so demure, still in the sort of sleepy shock of being interrupted during a late-night jerk session and embarrassed at what he’d heard and seen, Gage would’ve been a little concerned about pushing his luck. This was, after all, the same woman who he’d seen end countless lives. Then again, those were not the moans of someone who’d only had a fleeting thought about fucking someone else. His fingers dove beneath her waistband, while his other hand kept a massaging grip on her breast. The feel of her flesh yielding to his grasp was enough to force a groan out of him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Goddamn— how’s every part of you so fuckin’ soft? Never felt anythin’ like it,” he grit out, already feeling like a wild animal, and with only a tit in grasp and her slit beneath his fingers. “Tell me somethin’ boss, was that the first time you ever thought of me while you touched yourself?” His thumb found itself against her swollen clit, his index and middle fingers gently prodding against her hole, just barely being able to feel the muscles contract against nothing as he talked. She answered him through lips close to quivering</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“N-no… I’ve— </span>
  <em>
    <span>hah—</span>
  </em>
  <span> I’ve done it before…” Gage slid a finger into her easily. He might not have needed to do any of this, given what she’d been doing minutes earlier, but he’d be damned if he would waste an opportunity like this. The intrusion had her whining and squirming her hips against his still-clothed cock in a way that was setting all the right nerves on fire. He added another finger, and as he felt the silk of her against his fingers he could imagine it so well against his dick he shuddered a little, groaning. Damn, had it really been so long since he’d gotten any?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t worry, Boss. You ain’t alone on that one.” He had no fucking idea why he said that— </span>
  <em>
    <span>admitted</span>
  </em>
  <span> such a thing while he was, by all means, in the position of power. Wasn’t like him to admit to anything. She was driving him crazy, there was no other explanation. “What were you thinkin’ about, before I came in, huh? Indulge me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span> Gage always liked to talk dirty. He had the kinda voice and the kinda filthy mind that got girls goin’ fast, he knew it, they knew it. But he’d never done shit like this. Finger number three had her gasping, and he knew at this point he was probably being overly cautious. Tight as she was, she was still wet as anything and practically soaking his hand. But some vessel in the deep recesses of his heart twinged painfully at the imagined image of her face in discomfort. So he went the extra mile in coaxing her open, until she was practically about to cum.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I think about </span>
  <em>
    <span>this</span>
  </em>
  <span>-- about you… doing things to me,” her voice was breathy and uncertain, and addicting.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh yeah? Tell me about what kinda </span>
  <em>
    <span>things</span>
  </em>
  <span> you mean, sweetheart.” Her heart pounded as she flushed at the endearment, hoping in the back of her mind that he wouldn’t notice.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But he did.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“‘Bout you pinning me down, doing what you want to me--</span>
  <em>
    <span>oh fuck, </span>
  </em>
  <span>Gage, </span>
  <em>
    <span>please</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” she squirmed against him beautifully as he curled his fingers and his thumb pressed harder into her clit repeatedly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“C’mon, boss, keep goin’.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I-I think about how you look at Mason, when he’s close to me-- that it’s jealously, and when we get back home you’ll snap and fuck me as hard as you want,</span>
  <em>
    <span> hah, fuck</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” Gage’s mind devoured those words as they spilled from her mouth, and loved them all, craved them. But why was he so fuckin’ stuck on </span>
  <em>
    <span>when we get home</span>
  </em>
  <span>? His thought was interrupted as she shivered sobbed, clutching at his forearms for purchase, and </span>
  <em>
    <span>damn</span>
  </em>
  <span> if that wasn’t an ego boost. “Gage, I’m gonna cum, please.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Whether she was asking him to stop or to get it over with, he didn’t know, but he did know what </span>
  <em>
    <span>he</span>
  </em>
  <span> wanted to do, and that was make her cum on his fingers, then fuck her so hard and so special she’d be ruined for anyone else. So he kept going. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Oh— shit, Gage, fuck!</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She arched her back against him, pushing her ass harder against his dick, while he insides quivered around his fingers and wet them further. Her face and chest were flushed, her breathing heavy, and Gage could feel her heartbeat through her back when it pressed against his bare chest. He rocked his fingers in and out of her slowly while she came down, before removing them. She whined when it happened. Gage’s cock twitched at the sound. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sole turned her head, and Gage gripped her chin to bring her the rest of the way to meet him in another searing kiss, open mouthed, and breathless. Not something he did with just anyone, not that any of this was. He took a split second to take in the sight of her swollen lips and heavy lashes. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The raider hooked his arms under her knees, picking her up and moving around before lightly tossing her onto her back and kicking off his pants. When he crawled over her, she opened her eyes just in time to meet his gaze, and for the first time since this midnight liaison, he was nervous. Knowing she had been thinking of him gave him a whole lot of confidence, but thinking of him and looking him in the face were two very different things. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Here she was, a beautiful pre-war relic, every bit as gorgeous as she was capable. She’d spent the last few months making his dreams a reality and worming her way into a rent-free spot in his skull. And what was he? Some battered, scarred, fucked up old raider who helped her out now and again. The possibility of not living up to her fantasies hit him hard and fast. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Porter.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her declaration of his first name brought him back to reality as he stared into her eyes. No one called him that, not for years, but if she’d keep looking at him that way he’d let her call him anything. She could give him a name, and hell, that’s who he’d be. Whatever she wanted. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t want you to feel like you have to do this.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Beautiful </span>
  <em>
    <span>and</span>
  </em>
  <span> stupid, a perfect combination. Maybe not stupid. Oblivious? An over-analyzer? Her gaze was gentle and doe-like. He’d just kissed her, </span>
  <em>
    <span>with tongue no less</span>
  </em>
  <span>, thrown her onto the bed, and she was worried about pressuring </span>
  <em>
    <span>him</span>
  </em>
  <span>. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He laughed. That low kind of chuckle that made some coil begin to wind itself in her stomach. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Boss. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Sole</span>
  </em>
  <span>. If you think I don’t want this as much as you do, maybe more, you’re outta yer damned mind,” he crooned, lowering his hips just slightly, so she could feel the weight of his hard cock against her belly. It made her hips twitch. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Porter… please?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Who was he to deny an order from the boss?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She laced her fingers together at the back of his neck while he pressed against her hole. Gage was unable to recall the last time he took this much care with anything besides a gun. She gave out a short cry as the head of his cock popped in, thankfully sounding surprised and not pained. Even if she was touching herself pretty regularly, he guessed it had been a while. Not only because she’d been frozen for 200 years, but also because he was barely in and she was still tight as hell. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Gage nudged his way in until she’d taken him pretty much entirely, stilling for a moment so she could settle, pushing her shirt back up in the meantime. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Y’got any idea how </span>
  <em>
    <span>perfect</span>
  </em>
  <span> your tits are, boss? What it’s been like to have ‘em pressed into me every night before you fuck off to bed? Hasn’t exactly been easy on me, but you’ll make it up to me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As merciful as he had been up until this point, any semblance of patience had fled as soon as she gave that first teasing clench of her walls and smiled at him. He gathered her legs, threw them over his shoulders, and started </span>
  <em>
    <span>pounding</span>
  </em>
  <span>. She gasped and took shuddering breaths, arching her back in a way that only made the movement of her breasts more apparent. His grips moved to her hips and his fingers sank deep into her flesh, no doubt in a way that would bruise. He pressed a kiss to her ankle in some form of apology. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sole’s moans pitched and pierced as Gage seemingly took everything he wanted from her, and she gave it all willingly. Her hands began reaching for his wrists, down by her hips— anything of his to hold. His gaze widened just slightly as he took notice of her intentions, and he did what he’d always done for her. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He acquiesced. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He tilted her hips up as he leaned forward, taking hold of her reaching hands, lacing his fingers with hers as he held them at either side of her head. From there, it took so little to lean down and kiss her that he truly couldn’t help himself, it seemed. The both of them were reaching near breathlessness, lost in it all, in each other. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You getting close again, boss?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, r-really close.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thought so. Can feel you tightenin’ up on me again, sweetheart. I’ll be damned if it’s not the best thing I’ve ever felt.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>One of his hands let go of hers, diving downward between their bodies to give her some </span>
  <em>
    <span>encouragement</span>
  </em>
  <span>, all while he kept drilling her without remorse. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Porter, </span>
  <em>
    <span>oh god I— ah, fuck!</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A shudder wracked her body yet again, and Gage felt the tell tale squeezing of her insides as her orgasm pulled through her. As a result of Gage thinking with his dick instead of his brain, he stilled inside her as she milked him, growling hard and swearing as he pumped her with hot ropes of cum. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The raider all but collapsed, braced on his elbows, before quickly pushing himself onto his back next to her to give the both of them space to breath. Her panting was something Gage could easily tune out the rest of the world for, just so he could listen to her, gasping and beautiful in her afterglow. He was just the same, huffing in a way he imagined was far less dignified, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>As her breathing slowed, her eyelids began to flutter. She turned and curled into his side, throwing an arm over his chest. Gage was used to shoving off soon after these kinds of engagement, but he figured… it couldn’t hurt to stick around with the boss. He lived down the hall, anyways, and she was looking really comfortable, and feeling real soft. Hell, he didn’t want to leave. Not when she looked like she did, not when he was feeling like he was about her. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Gage.” He could hear the sleep begin to deep into her voice. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, boss?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>What was this to you?</span>
  </em>
  <span>” She all but whispered it, almost like she didn’t really want him to hear it. He could have easily pretended not to have heard, or to be asleep, and she knew that. Even now, she thought of him. Gave him an out. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What did you want it to be?” Answering a question with a question. Way to sound like someone who just used her for sex, jerk. God, did he always have to have such a smart mouth? </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I wanted it to mean something. But it doesn’t have to. It doesn’t have to.” They were on the third exchange of this conversation and he could already picture her heart breaking. Fuck that. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It sure as hell meant something to me, boss. Meant a hell of a lot.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Understatement of the century. </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
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